When Joël closed last summer to renovate, no one could have predicted that the most dramatic change that was about to occur was the exit of the restaurant’s namesake, chef Joel Antunes.

The talented James Beard award winner was scooped up by the soon-to-be-unveiled Oak Room in New York earlier this spring to be executive chef after a renovation all its own at the Plaza Hotel.

Antunes opened Joël in 2001 to rave reviews, but Atlanta diners had trouble warming to the austere, albeit jaw-droppingly gorgeous interior designed for big bucks by the Johnson Studio. Coupled with a forgettable location, the restaurant always had trouble filling the stunning space. Even on busy nights, it seemed empty.

When it closed in summer 2007 and reopened that September, the change in décor was striking — the dining room had been literally cut in half, with the removal of the towering floor-to-ceiling windows and the loss of those beautiful marble bathrooms big enough to live in.

But with the smaller space came something Joël had never experienced before as a restaurant — a nearly full dining room. In my five-star re-review of the restaurant from barely a year ago, here’s what I had to say:

“A new entrance follows a short path beyond a much smaller bar into a dining room that lacks all the glorious sophistication of the old Joël, but possesses something the former never attained: a close-to-full room. People. People eating and talking; people laughing and enjoying wine. The sounds of flatware clinking against the restaurant’s bone white china. The wafting aroma of truffle oil, cheeses and chocolate. These are things a multimillion-dollar price tag for design simply can’t buy, and they give Joël what it needed all along — warmth.”

The menu changed, too, moving more to brasserie-style items that are easily recognized while still possessing the modern charm and sophistication we’ve all come to know and love about this kitchen.

And then, barely six months later, Antunes was gone.

Knowing the value in a name, the owners left it intact. Talk was that Antunes would stay on as “consultant,” which means what exactly? In Antunes’ place in the kitchen rose a man who had been there all along.

Chef Cyrille Holota, also a Frenchman, has as much technique as Antunes could offer, and actually seems happy to be there. He cooks with every bit as much fervor and ardor as Antunes, and makes a point of coming around to tables occasionally as the evening crests and falls into a lull to welcome diners — a particularly un-French thing to do, and something with which Antunes never bothered. It’s fairly clear to me now that Holota was most likely who I was reviewing last fall, not Antunes, who was busy readying himself for leaving.

Holota worked with Antunes for 14 years. His transition this past spring to Joël’s executive chef has seemed seamless. My only hope for him is that he will be allowed to break free of the Joël mold he has been placed in, since he is clearly talented enough to hold his own with a menu.

In the meantime, no one’s the wiser. And dishes such as the signature salmon sashimi shine just as brightly as they ever did, with razor-thin slices of super fresh fish delicately placed over rice and balanced with savory, mild dashi broth, all crowned with a smooth, refreshing quenelle of mustard ice cream. It’s the ice cream’s contrast of cold and peppery flavor that make this appetizer genius in its innovation.

Joël’s kitchen staff must spend inordinate amounts of time on practicing quenelles, the oval-shaped scoops of ice cream and meringue so perfectly dished out atop many of the menu’s offerings. The mango pavlova, a must-eat-or-die dessert, is a pristine quenelle of perfectly toasted meringue filled with mango crème patisserie. Brown turkey figs inside a tart crust are home to a tiny quenelle of honey-thyme ice cream.

And though it has never touted the terminology, the restaurant has always set an example, as Seeger’s long did, of using fresh, locally sourced and organic (when possible) ingredients. The fish is among the best in the city. (Antunes told me once a few years back that he would never use farm-raised fish. “They taste muddy,” he proclaimed in a heavy French accent.)

These kind of culinary creeds makes such a difference in a dish of seared foie gras with sautéed figs in a velvety caline sauce so mild that the natural flavor of the liver was able to meld with the figs. And a tomato tart with arugula tasted as if it had been picked fresh from the garden just hours before.

Holota is just as comfortable with the subtleties of fish as Antunes was, so seared, plump diver scallops served in a chicken jus with leeks and a bit of sweet/tart tomato confit are one of the evening’s best choices. But this chef does not shy away from meat as much as his predecessor, and a heavier option like braised short ribs, cooked sous vide-style then braised to create a rich, downright old-fashioned red wine sauce with carrots, are a welcome companion to fall.

Even house-made fries are an ordeal: potatoes are mashed and flavored, then cut into fry-shaped batons, then fried. The result is an ethereally thin crust that breaks away to reveal downy potatoes that melt, literally, in your mouth. And the rich, creamy truffled grits are a far cry from the breakfast standby; here, they rise to royal treatment, and the flavor is king.

Sommelier Perrine Prieur has the arduous task of mastering Joël’s ample wine cellar, and she stands up to the challenge, gently suggesting and pairing, discussing the menu. She is among the best, if not the best, in the city simply because in addition to her knowledge, she possesses a gentle, girlish passion that exudes her love of wine.

The staff bops about the dining room happily, handy to the last drop of tonka sauce poured into the chocolate soufflé. Many of the servers have been at the restaurant for several years and are as familiar with Holota as they were with Antunes.

Indeed, no one seems to miss Antunes at all, least of all me.

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Food: Modern French
Service: The staff here has done nothing but improve with time; many servers are veterans of this dining room and know their way around a French menu, especially Joël’s. Charming Hugh Grant lookalike Leigh Allan has done his duty as the restaurant’s manager, keeping things special, but on a more toned down, casual note.
Address, telephone: 3290 Northside Parkway, 404-233-3500
Price range: $$$
Credit cards: Visa, Mastercard, American Express, Discover, Diners Club
Hours of operation: Lunch: 11:30 a.m.-2 p.m. Tuesdays-Fridays. Dinner: 5:30 p.m.-10 p.m. Tuesdays-Saturdays.
Vegetarian dishes: Sides of truffled grits, braised carrots and buttered parsnips or asparagus make it easy to veer from meat on this menu.
Best dishes: Sashimi with dashi broth and mustard ice cream, tomato tart, foie gras with sauteed figs and caline sauce, seared diver scallops with leeks and tomato confit, braised beef short ribs with red wine sauce, mango pavlova, fig tart, praline Napoleon
Children: A wonderful fine dining experience for the ‘tween set
Parking: Complimentary valet; adjacent garage
Reservations: Yes
Wheelchair access: Yes
Smoking: No smoking
Noise level: Medium
Patio: Yes
Takeout: Yes
Web site: www.joelrestaurant.com

KEY TO RATINGS
Outstanding: Sets the standard for fine dining in the region.
Excellent: One of the best in the Atlanta area.
Very good: Merits a drive if you’re looking for this kind of dining.
Good: A worthy addition to its neighborhood, but food may be hit or miss.
Fair: The food is more miss than hit.
Restaurants that do not meet these criteria may be rated Poor.

Pricing code: $$$$$ means more than $75; $$$$ means $75 and less; $$$ means $50 and less; $$ means $25 and less; $ means $15 and less. (The price code represents a meal for one that includes appetizer, entree and dessert without including tax, tip and cocktails.)